


The Bane and the Meaning

by Siiren



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: #AttemptAtFirstPerson, #ForNow, #INeedToStopWritingAngst, #ImBadAtTags, #ImpliedSmut, #KuboWhyAreYouMakingS2WithOtabek/Mila, #MayAddMoreTagsLater, #ShitWriting, #angst, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 09:25:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9117658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siiren/pseuds/Siiren
Summary: Their skin used to be so pressed together you couldn't tell where one person stopped and the other started.And now Otabek is in a separate world.





	

_ My flushed hands ran through Otabek’s hair, gripping the locks at the crown as if he’d disappear if I let go. With my mouth falling open, I tried to tell him to go on. To finally do this. That I was  _ _ ready _ _.  But he only met my lips with his, jutting his jaw forward and placing his hand on my collar. _

 

_ “I know what you want,” Otabek whispered, his voice flowing over me like a wave of needs and wants. His dark brown eyes managed to stick out in the pitch-black room to practically stare into my soul, adding another layer to the lust. Gazes and words like that made me defenseless. I’d been thinking about this for so long, and he finally learned to hear the voices in my head. _

 

_ I grabbed his hand off my chest, squeezing hard in anticipation of what he was about to do. He gripped back harder, and if the light was on, I can bet his knuckles would be white. “I’ve wanted you for so long.” _

 

_ I nodded back, words forming into the back of my throat, ready to spew out at Otabek. Instead, I only managed a  gravely “Go,” before Otabek sealed the deal, making his flesh become my own. _

 

_ \----- _

 

The fucker came in the door, as if he owned the place. As soon as the door swung open and he stepped in, I knew it was him. Just by the way he walked, the way his boots skid across the cheap carpet.  _ Everything  _ he did was all leaning, the kind that looked like he was lying on a bed vertically. Everything was just so  _ easy  _ with him.

 

I shoot him a glare, trying to make my blue eyes turn into icy daggers, but he doesn’t even bother with me. My hands wrapped around my ice skates, before tugging hard enough to cut off circulation to my feet. And he still doesn’t even notice. He’s already facing away from me, cutting off all chances of my sharp glares hitting him.

 

Tugging off his shirt, and I was immediately caught in a trance by his back. It was toned, and I remember the feeling of that. I’d always imagine someone like Otabek being all sharp and pointed, each bone coming to a point. But they weren’t. They were soft, and I even  _ imagined  _ drawing circles with my fingers on them again.

 

The anecdotes and dreams were cut short. There were diluted pink lines painted across the masterpiece that was Otabek’s back. The realization hit me. They were  _ scratch marks. _

 

I could only turn away at this point, to stop myself from going off at him. I wouldn’t even know what to yell at him, but I know myself well enough to know I’d yell anyways.

 

Mila was his girlfriend after all, and Otabek was the type of person to let his partner share his body. If she wanted to do that, she could.

 

Not like it made the load easier on me. Boiling blood pushed out to my skin, covering me with a red tint. I wasn’t even sure myself if it was due to being pissed, or because of my thoughts on his gentle back.

 

The door to the halls opened, and Yakov stepped in. “Yuri! What’s taking so long?” He asked, turning heads over. My eyes sparked open, drawing my attention off of  _ him _ . “I’ll be there in a second,” I mumble. The door shuts as Yakov leaves, and I don’t even bother to watch him.

 

_ Did  _ I want to leave? I don’t think I did. Otabek still hasn’t even looked at me.

 

I’ll just have to make him see me on the ice. Make it something so memorable it scars his mind, as much as Mila’s fingernails scorned his back.

 

I shoot one last gaze at him, and this time he meets it. I can’t read him. He used to be an open book, I used to be able to see what he was feeling at a moment’s notice, but now, his face is muddled with too many things at once.

 

I want to scowl. But instead I smirk, and stand up to leave. I shoot him a thumb’s up, but I pretend to not care enough to look and see if he saw.

 

\-----

 

Yuuri and Viktor are whispering to each other as always. Spreading a sense of love throughout the air, as always. It really does make the oxygen feel thick. I try to walk right past them, to escape their aura of love, but Viktor grabs my arm.

 

“Yurio! Are you excited?” Yuuri asks me, his eyes opened wider just at being around Viktor.

 

The two truly cannot live without one another. When Yuuri had to go home due to a family emergency, I saw what Viktor was like. He looked like a lost child, grabbing out with his hands for his mother that wasn’t there.

 

I can  _ never  _ be like that. Because the only person I’d care that much about losing would the Otabek. And I can’t show that weakness to him. I have to be better, always and forever. I can’t let him see I’m constantly breaking down at how he looks at Mila versus me.

 

So that’s how I’ve won every competition against him for the past year. Maybe not first place, but  _ higher than him.  _ He’ll never see that weakness from me again.

 

Because I’ll never be his number one, again. I don’t even know if I was  _ ever  _ his number one. But in any matter, I won’t be. Someone else will be. It’s going to be Mila, the picture-perfect-hetero-skating-power-couple.

 

I knew fighting against the obvious was futile,even if it hurt not to. I’m the scrawny seventeen year old from Russia who looks and skates like a girl, but can never be in love like one. So if I can’t ever get his attention from being his number one, then I already figured out that I have to be at the bottom of his list.

 

Even though I have to make his gazes fill with hatred, even if they make me feel disgusting, they’re still his gazes. They're the same eyes who got to see every inch of me once upon a time, and I get to stare back with the eyes that got to see every inch of him.

 

And I’ll make sure it stays that way. If Mila is his princess who he rides off into the sunset with once he defeats the dragon, then he can never win. So I can always see those gazes. Even if I’m the horrendous dragon.

 

“Yurio? Hellooo?” Viktor asks, shaking my arm. I phase back into reality, blinking at him. “Why would I be excited when I have you two throwing stuffed animals onto the rink after my program?” I retort, painting back on my angry-teenager face.

 

Yuuri snorts, and Viktor looks back at him with bright wide eyes. The kind that you can’t read when you’re not in that relationship.

 

_ Otabek looks at me, his eyes filling with a mix of sinful emotions, and joyous ones. He doesn’t even take off his boots at the door before he’s already on me. _

 

I blink again, slowly. Yuuri is running a hand through his hair, but it gets caught in all the hairspray used. “We got something different this time,” He chortles. “I swear.”

 

Taking in a deep breath, I roll my eyes. “Sure, and unicorns exist. You said that last time, you know,” I shove my way down onto the bench with the pig, so I can double check that my skates are on just right. They still feel tight from when I pulled them when Otabek came in the locker room.

 

Yuuri moves over to accommodate me, linking arms with me. Two years ago, I would’ve kicked him off this bench, but with Otabek not in sight… I don’t push him away. Viktor is already behind us, wrapping an arm around either of our shoulders.

 

"That guy was in your division, right?" Vikor asks pointing at a smaller kid - 14, 15 - trailing around near some of the coaches. Viktor is trying to start casual conversation that I really am not in the mood for.

 

“Hmph. I remember him. Placed pretty poorly in Juniors," I say, trying to keep it short. I pull from their grasps before they can continue the conversation any longer. “I really should go back to Yakov.”

 

“Oh, but Otabek’s skating next,” Yuuri says, leaning back into Viktor. I just turn away.

 

“I know.”

 

I don’t talk with them anymore, simply giving them a nod and then walking away. Viktor knows, I told him a little about it when Yuuri had to return home for that family emergency, just because he was so desperate for information on love lives. I really could have turned him down, but he looked like a kicked puppy.

 

I don’t even watch Otabek’s program.

 

And I hardly even notice when I’m skating my own. All I know is that I have to beat my prior.

 

\-----

 

By the time we’re on the podiums, it feels normal. Yuuri is in third, Viktor wildly cheering on the sidelines.

 

Otabek in second.

 

Me in first.

 

Flashes of cameras all around don’t seem to blind me as much as they used to. The stems of the roses in my hand don’t break through the skin on my hands anymore. 

 

I see Mila in the stands, jumping up and down, waving a flag around. I try to ignore her the best I can. I sneak a peek at Otabek, and then at Yuuri to make it seem casual. I still can never be as casual as Otabek is, but I can try.

 

I just want everything to feel normal, so I throw on a smile and bow for the cameras. Not a single photographer will get to see crows feet growing from my eyes for a frown. So I make it just like always.

 

But Otabek didn’t always ignore me. He used to congratulate me, I used to congratulate him, and by the time we were off the ice and away from the cameras, we’d make out in the locker rooms after everyone left.

 

It wasn’t like that at all this time. I simply changed, and didn’t even bother to look at the scratches on Otabek’s back. I just drew the circles on the bench instead, ignoring the whole world with what was going on.

 

That fucker will pay one day for what he’s done to me. For what he’s  _ doing  _ to me. I’d be the one to murder him, but the first to cry over his corpse.

 

Why does love have to be this confusing? Why does love have to hurt this much?

 

Otabek wouldn’t even call it love, if he would ever talk to me. Simply an experiment, that failed. For me, it was so much more. It was everything to me. My breath halted every few seconds when he was gone.

 

I was only me when I was with him. Sure, my skating has grown stronger since I had an objective to beat him, but it didn’t matter. Every time Yuuri or Viktor touched the ice, they would skate for each other, skate for their families, skate for the whole world.

 

I skate for Otabek, but he doesn’t even watch.

 

So I really don’t know if Otabek will pay for this damage he’s done with kisses or kicks. I’ve got time to think about it, considering he doesn’t acknowledge my existence.

 

I pick myself up from the bench, slinging my bag over my shoulder. As I walk out, I swear - more like a  _ hope  _ or  _ pray _ \- that he gives me a thumbs up on my way out.

 

\-----

 

The house is as glum as usual. Grandpa’s gone, of course. Still at the assisted living home. I can’t bring myself to visit him, not today. Everything today sucked. The long taxi right was painful, sitting next to Yuuri and Viktor giggling the whole way home.

 

I put the medal and the trophy with the other ones, not caring about anything right now.

 

Dropping my bag, I simply fall onto my bed. Today was worse around him than usual. Should that even be of concern by now? It was always getting worse. 

 

Fuck. When did he become like this? So depressing and just… Being like a little shit? He was that selfish of Otabek? No wonder it was getting worse. He was still just a child, not wanting to give up his toy.

 

_ Fuck. _

 

\-----

 

Falling asleep was the worst thing that happened in his entire day. The second the lights went off, it was like I could imagine the things we did in the cloak of the night. That’s the warmest time.

 

It used to be.

 

Now it was empty. I’d reach for something not there, almost a year since he’d last been in this bed. 

 

Whatever they had had, it was  _ not  _ an experiment. It was more. It wasn’t sparks flying, it was full on forest fires. We’d gone fast, scorching every phase we were supposed to go through on our way past them. But it was never too fast. Nothing could’ve been too fast for us.

 

Did I burn him out? It couldn’t be.  _ He  _ was surely the match, I was the firewood. I would have still gone even if I was just ash. 

 

I wanted him back. I so badly did. But there was no turning back now. Everything I’d done in the past year demolished my chances. Not like there was one after Otabek broke it off - but even if there’d just been a flicker of a chance before, it had sure been stomped out by now.

 

It was like a nightly battle, every single night. To remind myself that Otabek’s gazes of hatred will do. They have to.

  
So I have to savor them.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys liked that chapter! It’s a brand new fic I had in mind, and I know the general direction I’m going in, but many of the things are still a blank. Feedback is greatly appreciated! This is one of my first serious shots at first person, so I know it’s weak, but hopefully writing this will help. Update schedule depends on the demand, so no ideas on it currently. But for the mean time, thank you!


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